


Void

by elisetales



Series: Promises [2]
Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Cats, Domesticity, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisetales/pseuds/elisetales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deimos tries his best to comfort Cain after Abel leaves him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Void

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abitbrazen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=abitbrazen).



Cain answered the door scowling and in his underwear, half-empty beer in one hand and a black and white cat tucked under his arm.

“Took your fucking time, didn’t you?” was the first thing out of his mouth.

Deimos started to apologize but Cain wasn’t interested in hearing it. “Tch. Just take your shoes off before you come in,” he ordered, gesturing inside with a jerk of his head. “Princess doesn’t like it when—” Cain stopped here and pressed his lips together, jaw tight and a dark look on his face. “Never mind, just leave ‘em the fuck on.”

He turned around and Deimos followed him inside the dark little apartment, sitting down on the couch and folding his hands in his lap while Cain sauntered over to the window and looked outside, nose pressed to the glass while the cat squirmed in his arms.

“That your boyfriend, is it?” he asked, and Deimos heard a car-door slam and the engine of Erik’s car as he drove away. He blushed, unsure how to answer and knowing Cain would only give him hell no matter what he said.

“Tch. Where’d you pick that one up? Looks like a sissy fucking navigator to me,” Cain muttered and stepped away from the window, a foul look on his face. “You could do better than him. Has he got a big cock at least?”

Deimos shrugged, flustered now, and tried not to fidget as Cain sat down next to him, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and watching while Deimos looked around the messy apartment—clothes and shoes and dirty dishes strewn everywhere; empty beer-bottles all over the coffee table and an overflowing ashtray.

There were bits and pieces of Abel left all over the place, though—wilted flowers in a vase by the window, too quaint and pretty to be Cain's doing, and even some of his clothes stacked up on one of the couches, too small to belong to Cain.

Cain had been a mess since Abel had left him, wasn’t looking after himself, and Deimos wasn’t sure how to help him. Never knew what to say when everything was always Cain’s fault.

Deimos had spoken to Abel a few times over the past couple of months, always when Deimos called the house looking for Cain and got Abel instead, but slowly they’d started talking even when Cain wasn’t home, and Deimos knew Cain and Abel’s problems ran deeper than just fighting over money. All Abel had ever wanted from Cain was his love, not possessions or money or a fancy house—if that had been the case he’d never have left his old life behind to come and be with Cain.

But even if Cain did love him, and Deimos thought he did (as much as Cain was capable of loving someone, anyway), he was never any good at showing it. Deimos wasn’t surprised Abel had left, possibly for good this time.

“How long’s he been gone for this time?” he quietly asked as Cain switched the television on to watch the game, volume low so they could still talk.

“Week,” Cain mumbled, bringing the beer bottle to his lips and drinking until it was finished. The cat sat curled up on his legs, eyes closed and licking her paws while Cain rubbed her between the ears.

“What happened?” Deimos pressed, watching Cain and the cat in vague bemusement.

Cain shrugged and swung his legs up onto the table. “Doesn’t want to be with me anymore. Says he’s sick of me, sick of the fighting, sick of not having enough money. Always got his fucking panties in a twist over something and I’m fucking over it.” He breathed out slowly and absently picked at his fingernails, grumbling, “Don’t even want the little shit back, either. He can stay with his bitch of a fucking girl-friend for all I care.” Deimos watched Cain’s face and knew Cain had never told a more obvious lie.   

“I’ll help you clean the place up,” Deimos said and started to get up.

Cain put a hand on his forearm and pushed him back down to the couch. “Sit.” The back of Deimos’ neck prickled as Cain stared at him.

“Why don’t you come round anymore?” Cain asked after a while, shuffling over on the couch so that he was too close, bare leg pressed against Deimos’ thigh. “Too busy bending over and sucking your boyfriend’s dick?”

Deimos would have assumed Cain was just mocking or being cruel again, but Deimos knew Cain too well, and the way Cain spoke -- voice low and husky -- told Deimos he was probably just horny with Abel gone, fishing for Deimos to tell him something dirty; something he could jerk off to after Deimos had left.

“We haven’t done that yet,” Deimos mumbled, and Cain let out a sharp laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He hasn’t fucked you yet? Why, what the hell’s wrong with him? Does he need a fucking map or something?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Cain, we’re just… we're taking it slow.”

“Tch. Sounds like a fucking pussy to me. You know who to call if you want to ditch the prick and get fucked proper,” Cain said with a snort, and Deimos flushed hot and ignored him, hoping Cain was just teasing, didn't know what to make of it if he wasn't.

But Cain wasn't teasing. “You're looking good,” he remarked when things got too quiet, voice low and fingertips lightly stroking Deimos’ arm, hand coming up to pull at the collar of Deimos’ jacket. Deimos shuddered at the touch, still wanted Cain after all this time and hated himself for it, had thought he was done with all of that when he'd left the Alliance.

But he’d never be done with Cain, just like Cain would never let them be done. Couldn’t just step back and shut his mouth and try to let Deimos be happy for once. He’d always have some sort of hold on Deimos, despite who either of them were with or how long it had been.

Deimos took a deep breath and pushed Cain’s hand away, gently, and Cain snorted and pulled back, looking pissed and stung. “Heh. Can’t even get a pity fuck out of you.”

“I’m with someone,” Deimos told him, so quietly he wasn’t sure Cain even heard him. “And Abel—”

“Isn’t coming back.” Cain ground his jaw and folded his arms, leaning his head back against the couch. “He doesn’t give a shit about me anymore so it doesn’t matter who I fuck, does it?”

Deimos just watched him and felt helpless, wished there was something he could say or do to help other than just giving in and letting Cain fuck him, because that’d only make things worse for both of them.

Eventually, he just rubbed Cain's shoulder and said, “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Cain gave a noncommittal shrug and Deimos knew that meant yes.

“I’ll get you another beer,” Deimos said and got up, Cain smacking him on the ass as Deimos stepped over his legs on his way to the kitchen.

He heard Cain’s voice as he opened the fridge, low and urgent against the quiet of the house: “ _Pick up the fucking— Abel, just pick up the phone, we need to talk. I’m sorry, alright? I’m… Just fucking call me back._ ”

Deimos closed the fridge and opened two beers, one for him and one for Cain, and stood in the entryway, frowning and watching Cain in silence, Cain’s skin ghostly in the flickering light of the television as he bit his fingernails and punched buttons on the phone. The cat leaped off of his lap and Deimos crossed the room to join him.

“I’ll call him tomorrow and try to talk to him,” Deimos promised, the only thing he could do for Cain and Abel, but Cain just hissed under his breath, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.

He grabbed Deimos around the waist before Deimos could sit, pulling Deimos down onto his lap and snatching one of the beers out of his hand. Deimos started to protest, half-heartedly pushing at Cain's arms, when Cain snapped, “Fucking relax, would you, I’m not gonna touch your precious little ass, just sit with me.”

Deimos relented and pressed his lips together, taking a quick sip of his beer and settling back against Cain’s warm chest as Cain curled fingers around his thigh. They watched the rest of the game in silence, Cain’s cat jumping up to sit with them and Cain's arm tight around Deimos' waist.

 


End file.
